


Five times Angua met the in-laws (and one time they met somebody else)

by gumbie_cat



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-16
Updated: 2011-08-16
Packaged: 2017-10-22 16:48:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/240245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gumbie_cat/pseuds/gumbie_cat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Meeting the in-laws is always stressful, even more so when they're dwarves and you're a werewolf with a habit of putting your foot in your mouth. Here are some ways it might have gone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five times Angua met the in-laws (and one time they met somebody else)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Disc Fest 2011.

_Well this is awkward,_ thought Angua, chagrined but not surprised.

It wasn't as if she'd been expecting this meeting to go well. Nobody could be expected to be happy about the idea of a werewolf as a daughter-in-law. Not even _other werewolves_ could be guaranteed to like the idea.

Angua had spent the entire journey from Ankh-Morepork pondering the many possible ways that this visit could go wrong. She'd had herself half convinced that the Ironfoundersons would meet her dressed head to toe in silver, but at no point had her imagination come up with anything like this. And, worst of all, it was all her own fault.

Carrot's parents had made a huge effort, coming right to the entrance to the mine to meet them almost out into the daylight. They were visibly thrilled to see their son for the first time in years. Maybe it should have been funny, the sight of two dwarves fussing over a man well over six feet tall, but Angua wasn't even tempted to laugh. They were so obviously a family despite their differences and Angua found herself missing her brother and sister horribly as she watched the reunion.

When they turned to greet her their expressions were cautious, but open. Clearly they _wanted_ to like her, if only for their son's sake. _Right_ , she shook herself mentally, _you're on. Time to play nice and make a good impression._

"And this is Sergent Angua von Überwald," Carrot was saying, waving her over to join the group.

"Hello," she said shaking the hand of the closer of the two dwarves. "You must be Carrot's mother. It's really very nice to meet you, Carrot has told me so much about you both." And then her brain caught up to events and noticed the frozen expressions on the faces of the other three.

"Uh..." said Carrot. "Um..." He was staring at her, bewildered, and his parents were glaring - the hand holding hers tightened to the point that anyone but a werewolf would be in considerable pain. After a seemingly endless moment of awkward silence Carrot appeared to decide that the best thing to do was carry on as if she'd never spoken. "Angua, I'd like you to meet my _father_. He's the king[1]  
of this mine, you know. And _this_ is my mother. Mum, dad this is Angua."

Angua, subtly clenching and unclenching her fist, trying to restore the feeling in her fingers, looked from one frowning face to the other. Of course, being dwarves, they both had beards, helmets, and a lot of armour; there was no way to tell the difference between male and female dwarves just by looking.[2]  
In Ankh-Morpork all dwarves were male until they told you otherwise, or turned up in lipstick and a fetching chain-mail skirt. But Angua had never needed to be told. She took another subtle sniff but no, her nose hadn't been wrong (her nose was never wrong).

"Uh..." she said, stunning herself with her own genius. Really, was it too much to ask for the ground to swallow her up right now? Why was there never a convenient bolt of lightening when you wanted one?[3]  
Hell, right this second she'd take a silver bullet.

"Well," said the King, looking her up and down dubiously. "I suppose you'd better come in then."

It was entirely due to the limitations of her current physical form that Angua's tail was only metaphorically between her legs as she followed the three dwarves down into the mine.

Take Two:

"And this is Sergent Angua von Überwald," Carrot was saying, waving her over to join the group.

"Hello," she said shaking the hand of the closer of the two dwarves. “It’s lovely to meet you. You must be Carrot’s mum?”

“That’s right, dear. Nice to meet you at last. Carrot writes about you so much I feel like I know you already.”

“Mum!” Carrot protested, sounding far too much like a teenager bringing his first girlfriend home for Angua’s comfort. Then it occurred to her the odds were far too high that she really was the first girl he’d brought home.

“And you’re his dad,” she said, turning quickly to the second dwarf. “And the king of this mine, is that right?”

“No.” Carrot’s mum was the one who’d spoken; frowning, when moments before she’d been smiling and teasing her son. “You’ll find I’m the one who’s king of this mine.”

Take Three:

"And this is Sergent Angua von Überwald," Carrot was saying, waving her over to join the group.

"Hello," she said shaking the hand of the closer of the two dwarves. “It’s lovely to meet you. You must be Carrot’s dad? He’s told me so much about you.” She turned, smiling, to face the second male dwarf. “He’s never mentioned having an uncle, though?”

The dwarf smile at her, but it was far from friendly. Something about it made Angua want to bare her throat immediately. Anything to not be considered a threat.

“That’d be because I’m his mum.”

“Oh!” All three of them were frowning at her disapprovingly now, even Carrot. She looked at his parents, his two decidedly male parents according to her nose, then back at Carrot. _He doesn’t know,_ she realised. _Of course he thinks they’re both men, all dwarves are. He just thinks I’m being rude! Well, if they’ve never told him, I’m certainly not going to._ “Um... It’s nice to meet you?”

Take Four:

"And this is Sergent Angua von Überwald," Carrot was saying, waving her over to join the group.

"Hello," she said shaking the hand of the closer of the two dwarves.

Angua had obviously gotten far too used to Ankh-Morpork dwarves. Sure a lot of them stuck to the traditional ways, but most of the ones she met these days were like Cheery, who certainly lived up to her name in her excitement at finally getting to explore her femininity. Maybe it was a bit much to expect leather skirts and steel-toed high-heels to have caught on down in the mine, but couldn’t Carrot have at least sent his mum some lipstick? Something to give her a clue. Why couldn’t he have warned her? She looked at the two women in front of her, still smiling fondly at their son, and decided she was safest keeping her mouth shut for now.

Take Five:

"And this is Sergent Angua von Überwald," Carrot was saying, waving her over to join the group.

"Hello," she said shaking the hand of the closer of the two dwarves. “You must be Carrot’s dad.”

“Yes, that’s me. How did you know?” He asked, surprised.

She looked at him, and then at his wife. Without Angua’s advantages they would have been almost indistinguishable. There was certainly nothing about Carrot’s mum that suggested femininity. Angua wondered how offensive the other women might find the idea that there was. This wasn’t the city, after all.

“Uh, lucky guess?” She offered, weakly, and hoped desperately for a quick change of subject.

And one time the Ironfoundersson's met someone else:

"And this is Angua," Carrot said, gently pulling a young girl of about three or four out from behind his legs where she'd been hiding from the strangers. "I'm sorry you never got to meet her mother. We nearly made the trip about four years ago, but then we got the news and it was too far to travel with an infant and then... Well."

And then... When it had been scent bombs and silver armour, the ingenuity of the response by Ankh-Morpork's criminal classes to the presence of a werewolf on the watch had been almost funny. They’d all been overconfident; Carrot, Commander Vimes, and most of all Angua herself. But the thing about an arms race is that they tend to escalate until either the parties concerned reached mutually assured destruction, or there was an overwhelming victory by one side. Werewolves might be extremely difficult to kill, but as events had shown that was not the same as being indestructible.

Now the only consolation was that they’d caught the bastard, and that Vetinari’s justice had been swift and characteristically thorough. That and the little girl clinging to his leg.

“We’re sorry too,” his dad said. “We’d have liked to know her.” He reached out slowly to stroke his grand-daughter’s hair.

“You know,” said Carrot. “I think you would have liked her a lot.”

 

* * *

[1] 'King' being the dwarvish equivalent of 'the boss/'the head honcho,' in other words 'the guy you really, really don't want to piss off.'

[2] Not while their clothes were on, at least. And looking at any other time could get you in to all sorts of trouble.

[3] It's because the Gods are bastards who like to watch people squirm.[4]

[4] Well, it's not like they have soap operas. They have to get their entertainment _somewhere_.


End file.
